Simon looked at the scene in front of him, rather puzzled as to why 'The Butterfly Effect's' first production meeting had fallen into such a confrontational stand-off.
Still, judging from the tone of David Giler and Brian De Palma, Simon wasn't too worried about how things would unfold; these two heavyweights with plenty of say clearly shared his own position.
Reassured, Simon relaxed and quietly began considering up the situation.
Hollywood's power structure is a very tangled web, yet telling how much clout someone carries is actually simple: check who they answers to, their place in the pecking order.
From David Giler's remark Simon realized the man reported directly to Fox Pictures president Ronald Goldberg, not to Fox VP Peter Sanders sitting across the table; the two were essentially equals.
In fact, from the way they squared off, Simon sensed David Giler clearly had the upper hand.
Since he would be collaborating on The Butterfly Effect, Simon had naturally done some homework.
He knew that the fifty something David Giler produced Fox's current release 'Aliens'. Putting that together with the pointed comparison David had just made, Simon gathered Peter Sanders was probably linked to Fox's summer flop 'Space Station'.
Eighteen-million-dollar budget, prime early-June slot, yet the gross hadn't even topped nine million, one spectacular faceplant.
Just as Simon suspected.
After David Giler's parting shot, Peter Sanders's expression soured; the corner of his mouth twitched. "David, I'm only safeguarding the company's ten million investment, no offense was intended to anyone".
Sensing Sanders backing down, Giler didn't press further. "Of course, that's your job. But your role is making sure the money's spent properly, not second guessing content. That's Brian's and my turf".
Sensing the steel in Giler's voice, Sanders hesitated, then shrugged. "Fine, just don't blow it".
Power grab foiled.
Simon silently filed that away, glancing again at Sanders: a classic bully who folds when stood up to.
With Sanders's attempt to seize creative control blocked, the meeting finally found its rhythm.
Even so, David Giler and Brian De Palma still had plenty of notes on the script.
Giler's focused on the title and the ending, much like the memo they'd just seen.
As the producer who had to think about commercial prospects, he wanted a more mainstream title and urged Simon to craft a gentler finale, not one that closes with the hero strangling himself in the womb.
That would bring them back to the original ending.
De Palma wanted the childhood sequence trimmed to under twenty minutes so the setup wouldn't feel long winded.
Compared with the earlier off the wall memo, these notes were professional. Simon didn't agree with every point but tackled them earnestly.
The three of them talked as if no one else were in the room. Peter Sanders stayed put, occasionally chiming in. Only at lunch did he leave, saying he had other work and wouldn't be back that afternoon.
In the Fox Studios commissary, after several meetings, both Giler and De Palma had taken a shine to the promising newcomer. Ordering lunch, David Giler volunteered some not so secret inside dirt.
The summer flop Space Station had been Sanders's pet project. Fox had handed it an eighteen million budget and the best slot, with Fox Pictures president Ronald Goldberg himself taking an executive producer credit.
All because the film's leading lady was Kate Capshaw, Steven Spielberg's fiancée.
That explained everything to Simon.
In the original timeline, the last three decades of the twentieth century in Hollywood could, without exaggeration, be called the Spielberg era.
With blockbusters like Jaws, ET. the extra-terrestrial, Raiders of the Lost Ark, and Jurassic Park, Spielberg was the sun around which Hollywood orbited. Though his home bases were Warner, Universal, and Paramount, every other studio still scrambled to curry favour.
Besides Space Station, Simon had just read in The Hollywood Reporter that Disney had greenlit a half live action, half animated project, with Spielberg's Amblin Entertainment: 'Who framed roger rabbit'.
To join the Spielberg camp, Disney slapped a forty-five million dollar budget on it. In the eighties, a major studio release rarely cracked twenty million, only Spielberg linked films could sail past that ceiling, sometimes doubling or tripling the norm.
Noting the faint envy on Simon's face, the two middle-aged men exchanged knowing smiles.
Every year legions of wannabes dream of becoming "the next Spielberg"; precious few even come close.
Yet this kid, barely two months in town, was already on many radars, and his talent was undeniable. Both Giler and De Palma faintly sensed Simon would carve out his own legend in Hollywood.
So the two established veterans, now in their forties, were happy to give the rising star a helpful nudge.
David Giler gently stirred Simon's ambition, and Brian De Palma, sitting opposite Simon, also asked, "Simon, Jonathan tells me you plan to make an experimental film. Can you talk about it? Maybe David and I can give you some advice".
Simon didn't realize the two middle-aged men in front of him were, consciously or not, offering him a leg-up; even if he had, he would only have felt grateful. In his past life he'd struggled inside a similar circle for more than ten years and knew how vital connections were in this business.
"Actually, I wanted to bring it up during this morning's meeting," Simon said. Hearing Brian De Palma's question, he took the script and storyboard drawings for 'Run Lola Run' from the backpack on the chair beside him and handed them to David Giler and Brian De Palma. "David, Brian, I don't think we need to change the title of The Butterfly Effect. Because of all that recent press, a lot of people have already noticed the term Butterfly Effect. And the experimental film I plan to make, called Run Lola Run, can illustrate the concept just as vividly. If Fox supplies some media support, the idea will spread even further. In the end, even if some viewers still don't grasp the phrase, as long as we build buzz the words themselves will become a hook that pulls people into theatres".
Though he caught the small calculation that Simon wanted Fox to help publicize his own movie, David Giler, already leafing through the script, nodded at the shrewd marketing angle. Beside him, Brian De Palma was captivated by the highly professional storyboard panels.
Seeing both men hooked, Simon naturally shifted the conversation to 'Run Lola Run'. "It's an experimental film in a parallel three-act structure. The story is simple: Lola's boyfriend Manni accidentally loses $100,000; to keep him from being killed by his boss, Lola has to raise the money in twenty minutes and reach Manni's location. I want to present it like a videogame level: using the game's save and load logic, Lola makes three different attempts in the same setting. Each run produces a different outcome, and every time she sprints past strangers she nudges their lives in tiny ways that snowball into wildly different fates, The Butterfly Effect".
The script wasn't long; as David Giler listened he had already reached the scene where Lola slams into the woman with the baby carriage at the first crossroads. Brian De Palma, absorbed by the storyboards, still kept pace with Simon's explanation and now looked up. "Simon, how will you visualize this butterfly effect?"
"Photo montage," Simon answered without hesitation. "Whenever Lola meets a key figure, we cut in a rapid-fire photo sequence that shows where that person's life goes".
Brian De Palma considered it a moment, appreciation spreading across his face, and involuntarily tapped the table. "Brilliant idea".
Even though he'd already read the device in the script, David Giler nodded in agreement. "Terrific."
David Giler and Brian De Palma had been swimming in Hollywood waters for decades; the longer you stay, the more you realize how hard it is to innovate.
As Simon continued, both men even sensed that, if executed well, this film could become a textbook many future Hollywood filmmakers would copy.
The waiter had delivered lunch long ago, yet none of the three touched their plates.
After talking in detail for more than half an hour, David Giler finally said, "So, Simon, you're planning to finance this with your Butterfly Effect fee?"
Simon nodded. "That's right".
David Giler thought for a moment. "Your contract pays two hundred thousand dollars; after agent commission and withholding you're left with maybe a hundred and fifty thousand. Shooting on 16 mm might cover it, but that would waste your script, why not make it a standard 35 mm film instead?"
Simon paused. "David, I always intended to shoot on 35 mm".
This time David Giler hesitated. "You're saying a hundred and fifty thousand, 35 mm? Simon, understand, different gauges look like just a technical choice, but a 35 mm production is an entirely different scale. With so much location work you'll need a full professional crew; otherwise it's impossible. A hundred and fifty thousand won't be nearly enough to finish the picture".
Hearing this from a veteran producer like David Giler, Simon finally confirmed the doubt that had been nagging him.
The original 'Run Lola Run' showed no sign of low-budget crudeness in image, score, lighting, sets, or editing. Simon had assumed it was sheer directorial genius; film budgets are famously elastic.
Besides, he didn't really know the typical production standards of German cinema.
The 350,000 Deutsche Marks he remembered equalled roughly 180,000 dollars.
But as pre-production deepened, he felt his own funds tightening; he'd already started trimming scenes subconsciously.
Now, with David Giler's blunt words, Simon realized he'd probably misremembered the budget.
Maybe in the original timeline 'Run Lola Run hadn't cost 350,000 Marks—he must have missed a zero….